These past few days have been rough, so I wrote this to kind of, I don't know, help me relax while I lay in bed? My mother's also watching the Republican presidential debate in the other room so please forgive Donald Trump's guest starring in this.
Thank you for reading.
It was a normal morning. Akashi Seijuurou got up from his bed at 6:00 AM, ate his breakfast at 6:30 AM, was out the door by 7:00 AM, and arrived at his office by 8:00 AM to be greeted by the sight of his very cute secretary Furihata Kouki walking in with a cup of coffee in his left hand and a grimace on his face.
"Don't you look happy, Kouki." the red-haired male commented as he took over the coffee to sip at it.
Ahh, Kouki really knew him well, he thought appreciatively. The amount of milk and sugar was absolutely perfect, the same with the temperature (Did Kouki actually took the time to adjust the water temperature? More reasons to love him), and...is that a dash of cinnamon he tasted in there?
Kouki answered: "You're meeting a potential business associate at 9:00 AM today.", his cute face still sour. Akashi raised an eyebrow.
"I meet business associates just about everyday, Kouki." He said, "You know that and you've never looked like this about any of them, even those that have a clear sexual interest in me or you yourself."
"The person you're meeting today is...special."
"So special as to make my Kouki sad?"
Kouki's face flushed that shade of red Akashi oh-so-loved, the grimace on lessening somewhat at his-technically-boss's flirtacious attitude. He sighed as he moved closer to the redhead's desk. "Akashi-san, you really should stop with that way of talking to me." the brunette admonished, "if this goes on people will really think that there's something going on between us."
Akashi frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that there's not something going on between us after we spent all that night, alone and naked, in this office two days ago and you told me, countless times and oh-so-tenderly that you-"
A hand ungracefully rushed to cover Seijuurou's mouth, and, looking up, the red-haired male could clearly see that the owner of said hand was jumping around the office and looking at anything but at him. "Shh!" his cute Kouki hissed, "I...I know, and...I-I'll say that again as many times as you need but homosexuality's still kind of...uh...a-a-and I don't want others to think that I only got this position by sleeping with you!"
At that Seijuurou's, eyes flared with their owner's anger and the male flung off Kouki's hand with such force that shocked even himself. He was angry. "Did somebody bully you, Kouki?" He hissed, "Tell me and I'll make sure that that bastard-"
"No!" Kouki explained exasperatedly as he violently shook his hands, "it's just that I'm shy and I don't want to show off our relationship too much, okay? Especially not in front of this guy." He sighed, throwing his clipboard to Akashi with a defeated flail of his arm, "Look for yourself."
"I'm sure he's not that-" Akashi looked at the name, "-my goodness."
He's meeting with none other than Donald J. Trump, the infamous American presidential candidate whose fake-looking hair, self-righteous insults, and obsession with crushing the lives of anyone who's not white had made their way into Japanese news. Akashi had seen some of his speeches and performances on a couple of American media networks he follow, and the only thing he can say about the man is that he's a bloody bigot. This man refers to anyone that doesn't embrace him as subhuman, thinks he's "very, very rich" (Akashi gave a sensible chuckle at that), and supports some of the most backward and disgusting ideas he's ever seen.
Yeah, there's more than a 90% chance that this guy is the biggest homophobe he'll ever meet.
"Why am I meeting with him, Kouki?" Akashi turned his head to Kouki, not giving a crap about the annoyance in his voice as he spoke, "Shouldn't Taiga-no, Kagami-san, the one in charge of the American Project, be the one dealing with him instead?"
The brunette replied, evidently sharing his misery: "Mr. Trump had, apparently, asked, no, demanded to see you personally because he felt that you are disrespecting him by having anyone less than the CEO meeting with him."
"Jesus Christ, why does this guy feel so good about himself?"
"I don't know, but you're stuck with the rich homophobe who talks about crushing our country's economy on a daily basis." He smiled sadly, "I'm sorry, Sei."
Kouki never called him "Sei" unless they were sharing a very close moment, and the worry in those chocolate eyes lit something in Akashi. The next thing he know, he was giving his lover a quick peck on his lips and whispering in his ears "It'll be fine".This action sent the brunette into a flustered mess, and the redhead waved him goodbye.
Now sitting alone in his office, Akashi rolled his eyes.
"Rich."
The owner's name painted upon its side with an ostentatious red, a candycane-coloured helicopter spiraled above Tokyo. "So who's this guy we're supposed to deal with today?" Donald Trump snorted on his leather seat, "Never heard of him, but judging from his actions so far he sounds like a real loser."
His daughter and executive assistant, Ivanka Trump, suppressed her desire to roll her eyes. She chided, albeit with a polite smile: "Well, Akashi Seijuurou's the head of a company a large as Akashi Corporations at the tender age of 22, so I wouldn't call him a 'loser', per se-"
Donald interrupted his daughter with roaring laughter. "Pshh, I'm sure you could do better than him." He commented, hands almost touching the cap that had been on his head and now sits by his side in the helicopter.
"Don't say that." Ivanka responded, "This collaboration could be a good opportunity for both sides-more job growth for us and expansion into the American market for them."
"Yeah yeah yeah whatever." The elder rolled his eyes, "Honestly, why did you choose to work with a Japanese company? Now how am I supposed to win voters and defend myself from those other republicans?"
Why is her father even here with her in the first place? He's supposed to be in South Carolina this week, running his offensive dick of a campaign and trying to outdo other Republicans in offensiveness and bigotry, but then he just had to rush back to New York at "the possibility of my daughter getting disrespected by some nameless Asian dude" and get all up in her business.
Yeah, it's sweet of him. Her father has always treated her above everyone else, and, counter-intuitively, it's really downright disturbing and embarrassing at times (Seriously, how do you think she felt when he literally said, on national television, that he would date her if she wasn't his daughter and that she had "a gorgeous body"?). Ivanka Trump just didn't appreciate her father's...whatever you call it...towards her.
The aircraft descended upon a circle in the Tokyo airport. While Donald and Ivanka rushed off to their destination in Akashi Tower, the aircraft driver hummed.
There was a knock on his door. "It's 9:00 AM, Akashi-san." Kouki's muffled voice came across the wooden object, "Mr. Trump and his assistant is here."
Sighing, Akashi elevated himself from his spinning chair, sliding the gold-lined fountain pen he had been playing with a moment ago into the pocket of his shirt as he opened the door. "Lead him in here, Kouki." He ordered, and as Kouki, nodding, went back to the waiting area, Akashi propped the door open for his guest before going back to seat himself at the meeting table in his office.
Grinning, the redhead drew the plump surface of his finger against the large table, feeling the cool, smooth glass placed above a simple, elegant wooden surface. This table is what you would call a relic; it had been passed to him from his father, and his father got it from his father, and his father probably got it from his father-god knows how old this table is.
All he knows is that it's a good table for guests. He also reduced Kouki to a panting, moaning, ejaculating mess several times on this table, but hey, no one needs to know that.
On Kouki's end, the 22-year-old man had never felt so scrutinized beneath someone's gaze before. The man's blond toupee hung over his round face as his tiny eyes (Seriously, those eyes were tiny-whoever said that Asians had tiny eyes had never seen Akashi Seijuurou and this man in the same room) roamed over every millimeter of his existence, seemingly trying to exploit every bit of him while his uncomfortably thin lips chitter-chattered away with a blonde lady beside him in incomprehensible English.
The brunette coughed a little, getting the duo's attention before speaking up. "Hello?" He said in his best English with a polite bow, "Akashi-san is waiting for you."
The duo stood up to follow him, and Kouki could only gape at their height. Seriously, Trump was at least 180 cm tall, and the lady's probably even taller. Why do these people wear high heels? He mentally cursed as he looked down before a polite tap on his shoulder brought him back to the present situation. "Ahh." He smiled in apology, "Please come with me this way, Mr. Trump and...?"
"Ms. Trump would do."
Is that his wife? Kouki, thankfully with his head turned towards Akashi's office, found a million things wrong with that.
Donald Trump must have made about a million different faces while the man that acted at their guide-well, he should really say boy. Seriously, this guy is so tiny. Of course, being the successful businessman that he is, he has seen people from a lot of cultures and, well, knows that Asians tend to be a bit shorter than them white folks but this guy looks barely Legal. He also stutters an awful lot for someone in a position as high as his; sure looks like a bit of a wimp.
"Dad, stop it." His (very beautiful) daughter gently slapped his wrist, "Don't make faces."
"This guy's so tiny!"
"Asians tend to be a bit short. You are also ignoring the fact that you are huge in comparison to even a normal American."
"Pshh." Donald made another face, "Just more reasons to-"
"No dad." Ivanka cut in front of him, "Don't. Is it just me, or have you become a lot of racist these days?"
"'I'm not racist; I'm just speaking the truth-" Donald was about to finish his sentence when he nearly tripped over the secretary. Just as he was about to hiss, the brunette boy turned over and bowed, again. Seriously, Asians bow too much-but of course this boy right here should bow to him."Mr. Akashi will see you now." He stated politely, and as the man made a motion to let them in through the open door, the elder man put on his polite face (Bet you didn't know that he had a polite face, did you?) and peeped through the room to see what's going on.
A red-haired man (who's also remarkably small) sat at one edge of an ornate table and, at the sight of the blond man, politely signaled him to sit across him. Without a single trace of his lack of respect for this man shown on his face, the Donald walked over to him, pulled a chair over, and sat across from him.
The two businessmen then looked up at each other to exchange a handshake, and as Donald's eyes met the younger man's his heart went Doki-doki.
This guy is gorgeous. Just gorgeous. That's all he can think of to describe Akashi Seijuurou. Something about the way those red eyes glowed upon the way-too-pale-to-be-Asian skin radiated perfection and authority and sent unpleasant chills down Donald's spine. N-not that he's gay! A-as he said, he's a proud Evangelical a-a-and he's the best republican a-a-and that means he doesn't have anything for this out-of-the-world gorgeous man.
Never before has Akashi Seijuurou wanted to punch someone for checking him out, but, well, he supposes that there are exceptions to everything. As the infamous 's tried to have visual sex with his body by running those filthily glazed eyes up and down his body, Akashi very barely concealed his groan. On one hand, he really should feel elated for unconsciously seducing a homophobic man-but then this guy is a well-know jerk that he didn't want anything to do with after this.
"Hello." He politely said, starting the conversation in fluent English, and winced as another wave of admiration came out of Donald Trump's eyes, "Is there an issue regarding our collaboration?"
"U-uh." The American coughed, "Uh, yes. You see, I don't think that we are-"
"What?"
Donald, with his gaping look replaced with a more demonic, leery grin, leaned forward and smiled in a way that made Akashi puke. "I don't think that you are upholding your side of the bargain." He declared.
"What?" Akashi furrowed his brows, "I thought it was written very clearly in the offer-"
Donald Trump blocked Akashi's next words with a brusque wave of his hand, and Akashi visibly rolled his eyes as the elder shook his head in an exaggerated manner. "You." The blond American pointed, "Don't pay us enough."
"It's the highest-"
"And it's not enough. You see, I'm an American, and you're Japanese, and if Japan wants to expand into America, steal our jobs, you have to pay a lot more than you're paying right here."
"It clearly says in the contract that we're going to hire American workers-"
"And the money you earn will still go to the Japanese government. We can't have that."
"That's not how it wo-"
"Yes it is."
Akashi facepalmed. This is going to be a long meeting. "Mr. Trump, with all due respect, no."
Furihata Kouki, in all his years of working with Akashi Seijuurou and being - oh my god - his beloved, had never see the red-haired man look so defeated after a business meeting, and, if he were to be honest, it's one of the most amusing things he had the honour to behold.
After that meeting, the redhead had dragged himself out of his office looking like he had been to hell and back. An oddly admiring Mr. Trump followed behind him, and the brunette secretary almost laughed when Akashi's pale skin turned 50 shades more so at the American's "cordial" invitation to his summer house in Miami beach for "some more time together".
As the two foreigners left, the female (whose name, as he later learned, was Ivanka Trump) had shot both of them sympathetic looks that Kouki appreciated but Akashi had been too traumatized to even take notice of.
"So how did it go?" the brunette asked, chuckling a bit at the red head that's currently laying on his lap in the secretary's office, fuzzy from its owner rubbing it again Kouki's chest a moment ago, "I'm sure it wasn't that bad, Sei. After all, he seemed to like you a lot."
"That's not an honour." came the muffled reply. Kouki giggled, and rubbed a hand through the dejected man's hair, ever-so-lightly patting him deeper into his (admittedly too soft) thighs. "You probably got him to collaborate fine." He comforted, "knowing you, you probably gave the guy a nice verbal smack, eh?"
Sei, head pressing against Kouki's thighs, "ngg"ed before he actually sobbed: "I got him to collaborate, but at what cost!" The brunette rubbed his lover's hair as said lover continued on: "He started off the meeting insulting my country, and after I finally got that over with the guy wanted to bloody paint his name on the building!"
"Oh, wow...that's really...unfortunate..."
"That's not all!" The redhead popped up from Kouki's thighs, face full of rage, "he then went on a tangent about how he thinks that all the gays should die. I told him, very politely of course, that I am homosexual myself and that if he can't tolerate that he can cancel our collaboration."
"Sei..."
"And after that he started to look like a lovesick schoolgirl and insisted on getting my personal email for correspondence. Then, of course, he had to stare at my butt the entire time we walked out together."
"I...I'm sorry."
The taller man wrapped himself around the secretary. "More reasons why I need you." Sei whispered into Kouki's ears as he snuggled against Kouki's nape. The brunette let out a laugh at the ticklish sensation of Sei's hair against him, and the redhead, too, quietly giggled against his lover's neck.
It was snowing outside, but inside the snug office the two lovers are warm, limbs locked against each other in an embrace beside the faux fireplace. His sensory organs all pressed against his lover, Kouki wondered how someone could smell this good as, with each breath, he inhaled in a scent that he had long came to associate as uniquely Sei's: a mix of some expensive cologne and his bodily scent that lingered on every object he touched.
"Aren't you disturbed that Mr. Trump finds me attractive?" Sei suddenly muttered out of nowhere, "Shouldn't you be all up in my business?"
"Why should I? It's not the first time somebody else finds you attractive." Kouki laughed, " Although you really are something, Sei-seducing not only a straight, but a homophobic man!"
Sei didn't reply, and, though Kouki couldn't see his face, Sei didn't sound happy. "What's wrong?" he asked, gently patting the man's back, "You okay?"
"I wish you'd get jealous sometimes too, Kouki." Sei said, "Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one that wants this relationship."
"Of course I love you, Sei." Kouki replied.
It's true. He loves Akashi Seijuurou just as much, if not more, than the other loves him. It's just that-well, how should he say this-he's a bit more Japanese with his feelings? In his opinion, love is something that's between two people, and it needn't (and shouldn't) be flaunted in from of others. Just because he wasn't comfortable with making out in front of others didn't mean he wasn't comfortable with making out at all.
"You dumbutt." The secretary teased, "Why are you doubting my love for you?"
Sei laughed.
"I'm sorry, my dear Kouki."
Kouki laughed too.
"That's alright, and" he took something out from his back pocket, "happy Valentine's, Sei."
I kind of regret this, but I kind of don't.